“Clean? Oh, you mean above reproach?”
“Exactly. Sometimes guys close to retirement get anxious about their future and make a last killing on the take.”
“Daryl trusted him implicitly. Patrick was on an important undercover operation at the time of our wedding. Even though he and Daryl were like family, I’d never met Patrick until I looked him up, per Daryl’s instructions. I felt he was as frustrated by the few clues Daryl had provided as I was. And he advised me to hide out and trust no one. That was after he’d been struck by the car and in a great deal of pain.”
“He’s our best lead,” Ethan mused aloud.
“I don’t know what this is about, and I don’t want to,” Odella said, glancing around at the long faces in the room. “I can vouch for my son’s integrity. Write down what you want me to ask and I’ll phone him.”
Regan cut Odella’s coffee cake and passed slices to people who weren’t interested in eating. The men were focused on Odella’s side of the telephone conversation.
“Sergeant Malone had chest injuries, plus a broken arm and leg,” the older woman announced after hanging up. “You could probably tell my son was curious. He said none of the cops in the parking lot that day got a good look at the car. Except Malone—who claims everything happened too fast for him to see anything. He’s staunchly maintained that the woman he was talking to on the sidewalk was an innocent bystander asking for directions. Officially, the case is closed. Malone has gone to his sister’s home in Phoenix to recover. That’s privileged information,” she said, handing Ethan an address she’d written on a memo pad.
“Then it’s true he is alive.” Tears stood in Gillian’s eyes again, tears of relief.
Mitch relaxed in his chair. Some of his tension had lifted, and he used the moment to sample the cake. After complimenting Odella and downing a swig of coffee, he got back to the case at hand. “I saw Lenny and his sidekick up close and personal. Give me an hour with mug shots of known mobsters operating in the South and Southwest. I might be able to pick those two out.”
“While you do that, I’ll take Gillian to pay Malone a visit.”
Mitch acquiesced, albeit not happily. “Before you take off, I have a question for Gilly. I’d like to have another look inside your suitcase. Are you okay with that?”
She nodded.
He turned to her again once Regan and Odella had left the room. “When those guys came to your apartment, Lenny, the short, fat dude, dragged your larger bag into the living room. If you hadn’t already ripped the lining out, he did. Hunting for the key, no doubt. We’ll want to give your car another once-over, too.”
“I pretty much ruined the other suitcase myself, Mitch. And the car I’m driving isn’t the one Daryl bought.” She described how she’d spent the two weeks following her mad flight from his lane. “I searched every nook and cranny inside the car and also tore apart the trunk. Before I sold it and bought a new car in Douglas, I removed the seats, vacuumed and felt under every rug.”
“Maybe they hit your ex before he had time to stash the key.”
Gillian twirled her cup on its coaster. “You’d have to know Daryl to see the fallacy in that. Before he embarked on anything, he’d plan it down to the tiniest detail. He was like that. You know the papers you had spread out on your coffee table?” she said to Mitch. “Those piles would’ve driven Daryl nuts. The first time I saw the inside of your house, I was struck by the contrast between the lived-in look of your place and the way Daryl made us live.”
“Mitch is a slob.” Ethan grinned, and Mitch turned red.
Gillian countered quickly. “Nothing of the sort. Daryl was a neat freak.”
“You must’ve known what he was like when you married him.” Mitch tossed out the remark with careless abandon.
“We met in college and both lived in dorms. Maybe I should have had an inkling based on the fact that he had his sights set on becoming a CPA. But I wasn’t complaining about him, Mitch. I was trying to point out why I naturally assumed I had the key. I think it’s also why Patrick Malone believed I had it. Probably why the men chasing me think so, too. If Daryl worked for them, they’d know he was like that.”
“Shall we quit arguing and get cracking?” Ethan asked. “I have other cases needing attention. My partner’s going to send out the Saint Bernard with the brandy if I don’t check in with him soon.”
“Speaking of checking in—” Mitch wagged his coffee cup at Gillian “—don’t forget you need to phone Flo.”
“I did. First thing when Ethan and I got here. She was so kind, I feel just terrible.”
“What excuse did you give her?”
“I said someone out of my past had caught up with me and I was going home. The lie stuck in my throat, but Ethan wants her and Bert not to know anything in case someone comes by asking questions about me. And Regan’s promised to ask around to see if she can locate someone who’ll take my place.”
“You sound defensive.” Mitch hiked an eyebrow. “Did I say you acted improperly?”
“Not in so many words. It’s more the way you’ve…been looking at me since you found me in your house.”
“How am I supposed to look at someone who’s a walking lie?”
Ethan whistled between his teeth. A sharp, annoying sound, Gillian thought. But it served to distract her and Mitch.
“Mitch is right,” Gillian said, lacing her unsteady hands together on top of the table. “I’m sorry about everything. But I won’t offer excuses. Given that—” she sighed heavily “—Ethan, I don’t like taking you away from your family and work. Honestly, I’d feel more comfortable if Mitch took me to visit Pat Malone. Although I’m sure it’s the last thing he wants to do.”
“I do want to go. I didn’t pitch a fit because Ethan’s way saves time. These guys may have connections in Desert City. Possibly even on the force. Money talks at all levels of government, and the mob infiltrates from top to bottom. They’re not long on patience, either. Lenny and company are hot on your trail, Gilly. Thanks to my sleepy-headed goof, they know your alias now.” He slammed a fist on the table. “I’m mad at myself. I wouldn’t have given them squat if you’d confided in me.”
“I explained why I didn’t. In hindsight it’s easy to say I’m sorry, Mitch. But it’s frightening to find yourself in the middle of something, not knowing who to trust or where to turn. Patrick said I should trust no one. He also pointed out that some cops are crooked.”
Regan had stepped back into the room to refill her cup. “If you ask me, and no one did, you’ve got to stop blaming each other, or this case is going nowhere but down the tubes.”
Ethan beamed at his wife. “Wise words from a wise lady. I vote we listen to her. Beating up on each other won’t solve this case. I owe Gillian an apology, too.”
“About damn time,” Mitch sputtered. “But I’m no better. I didn’t stop to look at this mess from Gilly’s point of view. From where you sit, sweetheart, it must look like a damned Chinese puzzle.”
Gillian’s irritation with him for using meaningless endearments began to melt away. “If our roles were reversed, I’d be mad at me, too. It must seem as if I schemed and took advantage of your feelings for me. I swear I didn’t. This whole thing unfolded one step at a time. It was one shock coming after another.”
Odella entered the kitchen carrying a sleepy-eyed Cara who, when she saw Ethan, grinned sweetly and held out her arms, saying “Da.” One little arm was still in a Velcro brace. Seeing her reach out to him, after a man she’d trusted had abused her so cruelly, touched everyone in the room, including Gillian.
Mitch watched solemnly. “These thugs chasing Gilly remind me of Tony DeSalvo.” He glanced at her. “DeSalvo’s the nut who abused the quadruplets and shot me.”
Mitch saw that her hands had begun to shake again. He took them between his warm fingers and began to gently chafe her skin. “I’m willing to put everything behind us, Gilly. Ethan and I have a good record of cracking the cases we worked on
together. Will you let us have a go at solving yours?”
Gillian gazed on his face with such longing and affection, he couldn’t possibly miss how she felt about him. If he did, he was the only one in the room. Which was entirely possible, she supposed. Because the moment she pulled away and nodded, he switched into police mode and began snapping out orders.
“Make a list of the things you want from your apartment,” he said, leaving the table to rummage in Regan’s sideboard. He plunked paper and pen in front of Gillian, tapping a finger impatiently on the tablet, indicating she should begin.
“Odella, would you go to her place for us and collect her stuff?”
“Sure. Oh, boy. Wait until I tell my husband I get to be a decoy,” she said, rubbing her well-manicured hands together. “After the shootout with DeSalvo, I complained to Roger that you guys have all the fun.”
Gillian dropped the pen. “You think those men might be watching my apartment? Mitch, I’ll have to go myself. I refuse to put anyone else in danger.”
He ignored Gillian’s plea. “Take a folded shopping bag, Odella. Or something that won’t draw suspicion. So, Gilly,” he added, “list only the bare essentials.”
She turned a pasty white. “Why won’t you listen to me? I mean what I say, Mitch. I’m not writing another word.” As if to underline her point, she ripped off the page and crumpled it.
“Take it easy, Gilly,” Ethan warned mildly. “Mitch is thinking straight. There’s no reason for anyone to be suspicious of Odella. Even if those thugs monitor who comes and goes from your building, it’s a big complex. They can’t recognize every resident. Odella, I’d suggest you park in a visitor slot in the underground garage. From there, walk around to the front, go upstairs, load up the stuff on Gillian’s list, then leave by the back stairs. They give access to the garage.”
“Brilliant,” Regan exclaimed. “That’s my husband’s fine mind at work.” Reaching up to take Cara, she lingered to kiss Ethan.
“Ummm.” He followed her mouth as she broke contact. “You three won’t mind carrying on without me for a while, will you?” He ran a hand over the curve of his wife’s hip.
Laughing, Regan said, “Down, boy.” That drew a sharp bark from Taz, who flopped next to Ethan’s chair.
Everyone laughed, and it helped Gillian relax. “I know you’re trying to ease my stress—thank you. I still think you’re all crazy to get involved, but since nothing I’ve said has deterred you, count on me one hundred percent. After I make my short list—” she emphasized short, her eyes landing on Mitch “—what’s next?”
Across the room, Ethan delivered a last kiss aimed toward Regan’s lips. Instead, he grazed her cheek and Cara’s forehead. The baby giggled.
Turning serious as quickly as Mitch had, Ethan dug a cellular phone out of his shirt pocket. “Amy’s on dispatch today. I’ll have her run through the directory with the address Odella got for Malone’s sister and get us a phone number. Gilly, you call him and see if he’s okay with Mitch hauling you to Phoenix for a visit. Don’t identify Mitch as an ex-cop. Just say you’ve found somebody you can trust to help you, and he has questions to run past Malone. Make the call short and sweet. We won’t give him time to put a trace on it. If he’s not on the up and up, we should find out soon enough.”
“Then you think we should visit Malone before I go through the mug shots?” Mitch asked.
“If he’s clean, and he got any kind of look at the car’s occupants before it hit him, his department may have already ID’d the bastards.”
“Ethan,” Regan cautioned, hugging Cara against her chest while she covered the baby’s ears.
“Sorry,” he muttered, sounding contrite. “I’m trying to clean up my language before the kids start to talk.”
“That means I’ve gotta clean up my act, too,” Mitch said, shooting a glance between his friends.
“Neither of you are so terrible,” Regan ventured. “But I think being aware of it will help you cut down on the swearing in front of the children, anyway.”
“I’ll feel the same when I have kids,” Mitch alleged. “Cussing comes with working the street.”
Odella looked stern. “Social workers are hip-deep in the problems of the street, Mitch Valetti. Environment’s no excuse. We’re each responsible for our words and actions.”
“Bravo!” Regan grinned. “I don’t recommend tangling with Odella Price, guys. She’s been there, done that and lived to lecture you about it.”
“Wow! Here I was worried about sending you to my apartment,” Gillian said, gazing at the woman with admiration.
Odella smirked and flexed her muscles. “I took karate lessons with my sons. ’Course, they left me behind at the orange-belt stage. The lot of them are quick to remind me to stay away from situations I can’t get out of by using only my brain. Collecting a few items from an empty apartment, I can handle.”
They all laughed. Gillian made her list while Ethan phoned Amy. Odella had barely left with the list when Amy called back, giving him a number for Patrick’s sister.
As Ethan instructed, Gillian didn’t spend a long time on the call.
“You did good,” Mitch said. He’d listened in on a second line.
Ethan, the first to hear the other kids waking up, disappeared into the boys’ room and came out carrying Rick and Mark. Behind him, Regan now held Angela, as well as Cara. Ethan collided with Mitch as he left the dining room. “What’s your read on Malone? Is he okay, or not?”
“He sounded really happy to hear from Gilly—er, Noelle.” Squinting at her, he murmured, “It was odd hearing you call yourself, Noelle. Is that the name you’d prefer we use?”
“I like Gillian, or better yet, Gilly.” She spoke guardedly. “Gillian is my real name,” she assured them, as if she might not have convinced them earlier.
“Then Gilly it is,” Mitch rushed to say.
“Oh, I wish I had time to stop and play with the babies.” She sounded wistful. “Mitch had me tell Pat Malone we’d be there by one o’clock.”
Ethan checked his watch. “Not unless you’re planning to fly.”
“Yeah. I figured we should take precautions in case Malone’s a good actor. This way, he won’t believe he has time to notify his bird dogs and get them there.”
“Are you always so distrustful?” Gilly asked him.
“Don’t judge all cops by me. I’m more cynical than most. I learned early not to count on people’s promises. When I was a kid my folks were always promising to show up for school activities or whatever and then forgetting all about it.”
Again Gillian glimpsed the disappointments a young Mitch had suffered. Deep in her heart, she regretted failing him, too. She saw now that he wasn’t as thick-skinned as he tried to let on. She’d make it up to him if she could. But until her position changed or improved drastically, she didn’t have any right to either take hope or to offer it. They might never have more than the few precious hours they’d already shared.
Realistically, even if Mitch and Ethan managed to find Daryl’s key and ensured that the bad guys would be put out of commission, she’d left obligations behind in New Orleans. Daryl’s affairs, including their joint holdings in his CPA firm, had to be dealt with. There might be a court case, too, if those thugs were tried for murder.
By his own admission, Mitch Valetti was ready to settle down, find a wife and raise a family. In the time it would take her to discharge her obligations, he’d have found someone else. And she couldn’t blame him. Not considering the way she’d lied to him.
Looking into his eyes, Gillian could tell that the same thoughts had struck him. What hurt so much was knowing she desperately wanted what he wanted. A home and family.
Spending time in the company of Mitch and his friends, Gillian saw that they were living her dream. All she’d ever wanted was a husband and children. But as she’d discovered in the most brutal way, people didn’t always get what they wanted.
She realized that Mitch had decided, just
as she had, that the chances of a future together were unlikely at best. There was an invisible stepping back by each.
Gillian felt like crying. But she couldn’t afford to break down now. “I’m ready to leave anytime you are,” she said, collecting Katie’s suitcase before she brushed past Mitch, heading out the front door.
Ethan clapped Mitch on the back. “I’ve gotta spend an hour or so in the office. I’m behind on paperwork. Take my Suzuki. If you need me for any reason, you’ll have the radio. I know you won’t like going through Amy, but she is on duty today.”
“I’m over Amy,” Mitch declared. His tormented gaze followed Gillian’s retreating form. “It’s the God’s honest truth,” he said bitterly. “For all the good it does me. If the visit with Malone goes off without a hitch, I’ll bring Gilly by the precinct later so I can check the mug shots. The faster we get to the bottom of her problems, the sooner she’s out of my hair and I can get back to building my herd.”
Ethan opened his mouth, but his wife thrust a sharp elbow in his rib.
Mitch stomped away, locked in his own black world.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A TALL, slender woman with snowy-white hair answered Mitch and Gillian’s knock. They identified themselves before she unlocked the screen door and invited them in.
“Thank goodness you’ve arrived in one piece,” she said, blue eyes sparkling. “Patrick’s been fussing like a mother hen since you phoned. Follow me, he’s in the den watching TV. Lord love him, he wants to be well, and isn’t. His chief ordered me to hog-tie him if need be.”
“I heard that,” complained a gruff masculine voice from the room they were about to enter. “This is what I get for having teased my sister when we were kids. Noreen’s been waiting fifty years to get back at me for the tricks I played on her. Come closer, Noelle. Let me look at you—and the man you’ve decided to inflict Daryl’s mess on. I’ve been worried about you.”
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